You know that bathroom scene in Sex and the City where Charlotte is looking at her ahem? I don’t know why was thinking about that when I signed in at my gynecologist’s, but I was. Why can’t it be like that? You walk into the doctor’s office and she gives you a compact mirror and a manual. I mean, how hard could it be right? It’s always awkward knowing this is going to happen, I never know what to say. Luckily, my doctor is all about business and she just gets to the point as soon as walk in. She gives me a gown and shows me to the (un)dressing room and I can’t hear a word she’s saying because all I can hear is the sound of my voice inside my head telling myself it’ll be over in no time.

I’m considering faking it with my doctor, how sick is that? Faking that I’m NOT freaking out, that is. (Git your mind out of the gutter!) Meanwhile, she’s talking and I’m scooting. I have to scoot four times, and it’s really hard to scoot discretely. Like for real? You want it that close to you? Nothing she says is registering, like “relax“. Really? You want me to relax? We’re not even on a first name basis here and you’re getting front row VIP seating. And … if you really wanted me to relax, you’d at least start off with some jokes to calm me down. Like how come they call you a “guy”necologist when all you ever look at are…never mind. If you wanted me to relax, you’d have a bottle of Cuervo waiting for me. I mean, guys get magazines when they give specimen and what do we get? We get mustache-nurse and some jelly you have to squeeze out of a tin foil tube. Not even enough to take home after.

I try to relax for a second then I tense up again because I’m self conscious about how much to relax. If I relax too much, she’ll think I’m okay with this, but if I don’t she’ll be down there longer. So I decide to make a face that shows I’m not enjoying it just so she’s clear about that and I ease up to help her out. I hear the speculum lock in place. “Nice tiny uterus” she says, “ovaries are small“. Well that’s a first. I guess I should be proud? “Cervix looks good“, she adds. I wanna say, “Thank you, we’ve been working out” but I don’t because I realize making her laugh while she’s maneuvering a plastic duck bill through my ladypipes is not a smart thing to do. Which makes me start thinking of speculum jokes, but I don’t laugh because that would be even more awkward for both of us.

I’m not even gonna tell you what happens next, but if that had been honey instead of my doctor, one of us would be grinning from ear to ear. “Ok, looks good” she says after the internal prodding and snaps off her rubber gloves. Then she gives my thigh a pat and it’s over, just like that. “If there’s anything to be worried about, I’ll give you a call. If everything turns out fine, you’ll get your results in the mail.” “You can get dressed now.” And that right there is the doctor equivalent to “I’ll call you in the morning”. I don’t even bother protesting, I mean, excuse me, it wasn’t that great for me either. I walk out and grab my bill from mustache-nurse feeling like I need a shower because ew, I just paid for that.

Open House at Mt. Carmel. We met all of Hope’s new teachers and received ourparental involvement points just for showing up. Don’t show up, don’t get your points. Just another fancy Catholic guilt trip. Joking! Do I get points for lame jokes?

Professional Development: Clinical Supervision & Evaluationwith former PSS Commissioner Dr. Rita Inos. For most of us it was more of a reunion and a chance to re-focus. “You have a mighty team” she said, “your best resources, your human resources are invaluable and you are going to get through this” I am inspired anew.

Yes, those are french fries. Yes, that is fina-deni. No joke, they brought it to the table like this.Only on Saipan.

The G.E.S. Health & Wellness Team at work.Thirty minutes before the food coma.

*****Thanks Jeff and Cynthia, for the dinner, the company and a chance for a night out with companions who can hold a conversation for more than three minutes. Tony and I have gotten so adept at eating and talking as we pull a three year old off a restaurant window pane that we’d forgotten what it was like to sit down for a meal. Their boys were so well-behaved that I almost got the mommy withdrawal shakes. How does one eat without the scampering of feet, sound of toys dropping to the floor every few seconds and the persistent whining of crumb-snatchers?

I have to say, Cynthia and Jeff are a great team. They had kitchen symphony! The food was really great, Jeff’s not joking when he says he can cook.

Chicken Marsala a la JeffDo you see the sangria? The sweet and wonderful sangria?